


Origins of an Outcast

by Depressed_Ferret



Category: Original Work
Genre: Animal Traits, Desert, Fantasy, How Do I Tag, Nudity, Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Partial Nudity, Swearing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-01
Updated: 2019-12-09
Packaged: 2021-01-16 03:54:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21264638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Depressed_Ferret/pseuds/Depressed_Ferret
Summary: Kyra, cast from her home, struggles to live outside the harsh culture she was raised in.  Will she be consumed by the rage inside herself, or can she move beyond it?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Yay! First story ever posted!
> 
> Edit: Title change from "The Outcast" to the current one.

  
  


_ The sharp, metallic tang of blood filled Kyra’s mouth as she wheezed, one hand weakly holding herself up and the other desperately holding the cut to her left side. It wasn’t lethal, but _ ** _damn_ ** _ did it hurt. _

_ Cuts marred her toned, brown skin; bruises mixed with the black spots on her arms and back; blood matted the fur on collar, shoulders, and forearms. _

_ She was beyond a mess. With a wince Kyra confirmed at least two ribs were bruised or fractured. Black eyes gazed upward to the woman responsible, pained and pleading. _

_ When did she get so _ ** _weak_**_? _

_ The Matriarch stood above Kyra, a light sheen of sweat upon her furrowed brow as the older woman glared down at the wounded pup beneath her. Her tail swished in frustration, ears flicking in impatience, and claws extended in a mute rage. _

_ “You,” she growled, eyes narrowed, “Are a waste. A weak pup not fit to be here.” _

_ The Matriarch lifted her glaive, pressing the tip against Kyra’s heart, “Leave the Clan, and _ ** _never_ ** _ return,” she pressed the tip further, drawing blood as she roared “Go! And if I catch so much as a _ ** _whiff_ ** _ of your scent, I will cut you down without a thought!” _

_ Kyra struggled to stand, legs weak and muscles burning. She huffed and wheezed with effort. _

_ Someone must’ve taken pity on her, because a spear had been thrown at her feet, the head buried in the soft earth of the Oasis. _

_ Her last gift. _

_ Her last _ ** _kindness_**_. _

_ The broken pup took the weapon, pulling it from the grassy soil, and gave it a spin to point the sharpened metal skyward. The haft felt strangely comforting in her shaking, beaten grip. _

_ The whole Clan was there to watch her punishment. Her _ ** _slaughter_**_. _

_ Kyra wheezed, steps slow and pained as she struggled to see past the spots of darkness that clouded her vision. She sighed, knowing there was no way she could beat the Matriarch. She just wished… _

_ That she wasn’t a _ ** _ waste_ ** _ \- _

  
  
  


_ “-up already!” _ a deep voice muffled from behind the door, pounding on the frail wood.

Kyra groaned, burying herself deeper into the warmth of her furs. Why was life so cruel? Why rob her of sleep..?

_ “ _ ** _Kyra!!!_ ** _ ” _ he roared, pounding harder, and Kyra seriously worried for the door, _ “Wake your mangy animal ass up _ ** _right now_**_!” _

Her eyes widened, pupils dilating, and for a brief moment, all she could see was ** _red_**. With barely the time to throw on a pair of roughly woven breeches before she jumped out of bed, grabbed her axe, and rushed to the door.

Sharp teeth bared, claws extended, she threw open the door so hard she feared the door might be truly broken.

_ “What _ did you call me!?” she growled, too angry to care that her breasts were bare. Too angry to not threaten her employer. Too angry to not care about _ gutting him like a _ ** _slimy fish_ **-

The shorter, chubbier man clears his throat, red faced- _ from his previous anger or from seeing her exposed breasts, Kyra wasn’t sure _ -and turned away. He seemed unconcerned about the furious, axe-wielding Hyena-Woman currently baring her fangs at him.

“Sun up was over a half-hour ago,” he says, “It’s time for you to get to work and-”

She grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, surprising him as she brought the man closer to her face.

Glaring daggers at the fatter man she ground out _ “What. Did. You call me?” _

He seemed confused, “I-”

Kyra shook him, “I’m grateful for your brother, _ Kato, _ ” she spits out his name like an insult, “But I will _ not _ let you call me ** _mangy_**, do you understand?” There’s an edge to her voice. An unspoken promise that implied nothing but violence.

Kyra hated this side of her. Hated the _ animal _ side of herself, that made her want to hurt people.

Then people like Kato come along, and she feels like maybe the voice in the back of her mind isn’t so wrong.

He abruptly pushed her back, cleared his throat, and bowed his head. “My apologies,” he began, “It slipped out without my intention. I’ll be sure to not-”

_ “Whatever!” _ she barks, turning on her heel to slam the door shut- _ she can see a crack in the wood _ -and goes to dress herself.

Shaking, Kyra threw her axe onto the bed, releasing a frustrated howl and nearly clawing at her own scalp.

  
She regretted not dying to the Matriarch…..


	2. Back to Work

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Took a while to iron out the kinks, but I hope you enjoy!

“Timber!” Kyra howled in warning, stepping back as the tall tree shifted before finally falling to the dusty floor of the desert with a thundering crash. Similar warnings were called out further in the grove, all too far from her to matter.

With a huff she looked around, scouting another good tree- _ some were too curved, others too small, and many too skinny _ -fell that one, scout another, and repeat until dusk.

It really was tedious work.

As she was scouting, her mind began to wonder. Why were the Humans so exhausted? Why take so many breaks? Were they weak?

She shook her head, expelling such thoughts. She knew Humans could be strong, the scar across her back was proof enough.

Why was everything outside the Clan so confusing?

_ "Stop thinking about the Clan." _

Thankfully, she didn’t need to think any longer. Looking up, she found a tree roughly seven or eight times her own height; straight as a spear; and wider than her.

The canine woman smirked deviously, “Perfect.” she chuckled. With a tree this perfect, she’d get a few days off as a reward.

Maybe she’d go to the tavern? That one waitress with the red hair was pretty cute, maybe this time Kyra could-

“Kyra!”

-Snap and fucking kill him.

She screwed her eyes shut.

One…

Two…

Three…

“Yes, _ Kato?”_ Kyra asked, snarl barely kept in her throat as she turned to face the portly man, right ear flicking in annoyance.

He looked to be slightly out of breath, face drenched in sweat. A quick glance told her that his axe was _ far _ too clean to have been used much. Looking to his belt, she could see his canteen- _ why didn’t _ ** _she_ ** _ get a canteen? _ -was bouncing around too much.

_ “Empty.” _ she thought with a strange bitterness.

He took a second to catch his breath, then glanced behind himself for a moment, “This is Hastur.” he says, gesturing to the newcomer with his toned arms.

Tilting her head to get a better view, Katya was mildly surprised to find someone she’d never seen before.

He was smaller than her, but not by much, with light tan skin- _ did he not go outside? _ -and small spots across the bridge of his nose. His hair was a strange shade of black that almost looked blue in certain lights, and his eyes were a soft azure like the noon sky.

He also looked young. Fifteen, _ maybe _ seventeen _ Lunat_. Or years. _ “What did Humans call them?” _ she briefly wondered before Kato continued.

“He was hired _ just _ this afternoon, so he’s new,” he explained, and Kyra suppressed the urge to roll her eyes, “As such, you’ll be in charge of him- Teaching him and explaining how things work.”

_ “What?” _ her eyes went wide. Was he serious?

“Hold-” Kato turned and walked off before she could question him.

...Which only made her blood _ boil _.

_ “I’ll gut that bastard in his sleep…” _ She seethed. Did he not see the massive tree she was planning on felling? Did he just _ expect _ her to teach a ** _child_ ** how to do their job while _ felling one of the largest trees in _ ** _the fucking grove-_ **

The boy gasped suddenly.

Turning to him Kyra saw a mix of confusion and fear in his eyes, mouth hung open in shock.

Kyra blinked.

“...How much did I say out loud?” she asked.

The boy jumps, “Y-You- I- Uh-” then he claps his hands in front of him and bows to her.

_ What the fu- _

_ “P-Please don’t eat me!” _ he squeaked like a mouse.

Kyra blinked.

Then again…

“What?” she asked, dumbfounded. Eat? What was he talking about? Who said anything about _ eating _ anyone?

“I-I won’t tell Kato!” he stutters, “J-Just p-please don’t eat me! I’m n-not tasty, I promise!”

...This was just getting uncomfortable.

She put down her axe, resting the handle against the trunk of the massive tree. 

“Listen-” _ what was his name? _ “-kid, I’m not going to _ eat _ you, alright? I honestly have no idea where you got that from, I just asked what I said.” Kyra hoped that would calm him down.

It did ** _not_ **.

“S-So you’ll b-bite my throat out!?” he croaks, eyes wide in horror and taking a step back, “Please, I just-”

“I’m ** _not_ ** going to hurt you, just calm down!” she was already getting a headache. Why was he so scared? It’s not like she even ** _threatened_ ** the poor kid!

“Listen,” Kyra began, “Whatever you heard me say, I didn’t even mean to say it, alright? Sometimes I say what I think.” she wondered if she was once like this: overly terrified and never listening.

She doubted it…

...But this kid made her wonder.

Hastur stopped cowering, but still held a look of apprehension. “So…” he swallowed the lump in his throat, “Y-You won’t kill me so I won’t tell Katto you’d…”

Kyra was already done with this.

She grabbed her axe and made her way to the tree she felled earlier, “Do you know how to swing that?” she asked, gesturing to the smaller axe at his belt.

Hastur briefly fumbled his grip, but managed to draw it and get the sheath odd. “Y-Yes ma’am!” he nodded, stepping closer.

Nodding, Kyra gestured to the fallen tree, “You’re new,” she began, lining up her axe before raising it above her head, “So _ this _ is what you’ll be doing all day.” she then brought it down, using the weight of the head to do most of the work as chopped through a limb.

She turned to Hastur, “Got it?”

He looked amazed, nodding in understanding.

“Good. Your axe is smaller than mine, but it should still get the job done.” she smiled, which she _ hoped _ would be reassuring.

Hastur smiled back.

_ “Oh good, he’s stopped panicking.” _ she thought as she stepped back to watch his form, make sure he wouldn’t injure himself on his first day.

He brought down the axe and got about halfway through one of the limbs.

_ “Not terrible.” _ she nodded before moving back to her own tree.

She wound back her arms, moved her legs into position, and with a twist of her body sent the head in with a loud ** _THUNK_ **.

The head went in about maybe three inches.

…..This might take longer than she thought.

  
  
  


In the hour since she’s started chopping, Kyra could feel Hastur’s eyes on her, watching her move. Based off his fear from earlier, she knew he didn’t look out of desire- _ then again, he _ ** _was_ ** _ at the age where desires run wild _ -so she assumed he was either curious, or confused about something.

Kyra briefly stopped her swinging to look back at the young man, and saw him quickly avert his eyes.

She sighed, “What is it?”

“What?”

“What is it?” she asked again, leaning on her axe, “You’ve been looking at me since I started,” she gestured to the gouge she’s made in the trunk, “So what is it, are you confused about something?”

His cheeks turned a bright red, “Was…” he sighed, “Was I that obvious?”

Kyra shrugged, “I noticed, so take that as you will.”

An awkward pause filled the air before he turned to her again, cheeks not so red, but still flustered. “I just-” he stopped, thinking things out, “I’ve never… Seen anyone like you before.” he admits.

Now _ that _ confused Kyra, “But-” she began, “But you have spots, like me.”

“What?” he asked, eyebrow raised, “No, I’m just normal, I don’t have and spots.”

“Yes you do!” she gestured across the bridge of her nose, “Right here you have spots!” He was kidding, right?

He looked just like the half-breeds of the Clan! Granted, they never lasted long, but still!

“Those are _ freckles_, not spots!”

Another pause, “So…” she shook her head, ears flicking in embarrassment, “You’ve never met anyone like me?”

He shook his head, “Never.”

“Well,” she shrugged, “What do you want to know?”

He looked at her, then her feet, and asked “Why do you walk on your toes?”

She looked down at her feet, unbound and free. Her clawed toes were slightly longer than a Human’s, and it _ did _ look like she was standing on them. She shrugged, “More comfortable that way.” she said, hefting her axe to start chopping, “You can keep asking questions.” she reassures.

He gave a nod of acknowledgement, lifting his own axe to continue his work. “Can you climb with them?” he asked, chopping into another branch.

“With my feet?” she asked.

“Your claws,” he clarified, “Sorry.”

She shrugged before embedding her axe deeper into the trunk, “No, too dull. Great for digging though.”

“Digging?”

She nods, “Digging. I’m a hyena, not a cat.”

“Well if you’re a dog, shouldn’t your ears be on the top of your head?”

She rolled her eyes, “I’m still a person,” she pointed out, flicking the ears on the side of her head. “It’s why I still have a person’s face, and why I’m not covered head-to-toe in fur.”

He flushed a deep red, shame etched on his face, “I-I didn’t mean-”

“I know,” she cut him off, “No harm meant, no harm done.” then she chuckled, “Now if you were _ Kato _ I would’ve punched you in the face.” she didn’t suppress the snarl this time.

Just saying his name filled her with a deep, seething rage.

She must’ve scared the kid, because Hastur coughed, “Uh-” searching for anything to end this awkwardness blurted out:

“So if you’re a hyena, does that mean you’re the same down below?”

Both of them stared at each other, one in surprise and the other horror.

And embarrassment, shame, and mildly wishing a tree would fall on his head.

To say Kyra was surprised would be an understatement. Hastur, a kid barely into his teens, who earlier thought she _ would eat him _, asked her about her nethers.

She couldn’t tell if he was bold, or dumb.

Regardless, she burst into laughter. A high pitched, squeaky, throaty laugh that made Hastur turn an even deeper red.

“Y-You- I- Pfft-” she couldn’t speak, could hardly breathe as she laughed and laughed at the poor boy.

“I- Ooooh by the _ Mother _ -” she sighed, “You are ** _certainly_ ** my favorite here, but you’re a bit too young to be asking about that.”

She strolled over and pat him on the back, “On the bright side,” she smiled, “If _ anyone _ else asked about my vagina, I’d split their head open. So you got off easy.”

She punctuated this by flicking him on the forehead, getting an _ “Ow!” _ from the teen.

Kyra smiled, getting back to her tree. _ “Was this how Mata felt when she was growing up?” _ she wondered. She was the youngest of her siblings, so she never really got to know what it was like. To tease the young, but not cruelly.

The canine’s ears drooped, her chest tightening as she thought of her family-

Her eyes burned.

_ “That’s right,” _ she thought, _ “They’re not my family anymore.” _

She brought the axe down.

_ “I’m Nothing now.” _

And again.

_ “I’m just an outcast.” _

It’s been so long since she was exiled.

_ “So _ ** _why_ ** _ does it hurt so much?” _

“Hey,” Hastur asked, ignorant to the emotions of the older woman, “How long have you been here? Or- Well-”

She shook her head and wiped at her eyes- _ she was sweating, so at least she could hide the tears _ -and cleared her throat.

“Well,” she began, “It was close to two _Lunat-_ Years!" she corrected, "Two **_years _**ago....."


	3. A New Life: Part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was the hardest chapter so far, and while I'm still not entirely pleased, I still think it's better than it could've been. Sorry for suck a long delay!

_ “Fuck!” _Kyra growled, the warm, metallic tang of blood filled her mouth as it was forced out in hard, desperate coughs; staining the fur around her neck as the crimson liquid dribbled down her chin. The dull throbbing in her ears hurt almost as bad as the ache in her ribs; but she didn’t have a moment to stop and think about it.

A slurred, drunken yell to her right.

Twisting her body, Kyra felt the man’s fist brush against her knotted, matted ebony locks. The smell of alcohol and blood threatened to overpower her senses as she tangled the drunk’s messy bark-colored hair in her fist.

Using the momentum of his strike she spun him around, slamming him face-first into the hardened mud of a nearby hut.

She could hear the cracking of bones; smell the metallic spray of blood; and feel the impact in her bones as his face is broken against the stone.

He goes limp in her grasp, and she lets him fall.

_ She doesn’t know why they’re angry. _

No time to catch her breath as the sound of shuffling sandals against the hard sandy dirt alerts her to another attacker.

She dropped to the ground.

** _CRACK_ **

A thick branch bashed the wall where her head would have been.

_ She doesn’t want to fight these men. _

She sends her entire foot into the new man’s knee, earning a wet _ snap _ as it bends at an unnatural angle.

The man falls to the ground, shrieking and howling bloody murder as he rolls in the dirt holding his shattered leg.

Kyra doesn’t wait to get up to send her other foot into his face.

_ She could feel his teeth give way to her calloused pads _.

He stops screaming, but he wasn’t the last one.

One man ran up and pulled back his leg to deliver a brutal kick.

She lets him.

Pain explodes in her stomach- _ something’s bruised _ -as his leather clad foot is lodged into her abdomen.

_ She almost loses her meal. _

She wrapped her arms around his leg and rolled to her other side, sending the third man onto his back.

She wastes no time in mounting him, pinning him down as she reared her arm back.

_ She could feel his windpipe getting crushed under her fist. _

He’s a choking mess by the time she rolled off, only to jump off and tackle the last man to the ground.

A scream tears itself from her throat as she feels the cold sting of metal digging into her arm.

_ She didn’t want to hurt these men. _

She growls as she reaches out to his face.

Claws extended.

_ And rips out one of his eyes with a sickening, wet, squelching _ ** _pop_**_. _

Kyra gasped for air, exhausted as she lies on the ground. The cool, dusty earth- _somehow_ -soothing the muscles in her back, sucking down great gulps of air to ease the burning in her muscles.

The man kept screaming.

One, two, three, four, five…

_ Eight. _

She counted eight men.

Eight men attacked her.

_ Eight men are crippled. _

She grimaced, the one-eyed man’s screams distant, dull in her ringing ears.

Another coughing fit takes her, and more blood is forced from her throat; so much so she had to turn her head or risk drowning in her own blood. She winced when she felt her right ribs. Sharp, stabbing pain greeted her as her fingers gently poked and prodded the sensitive flesh.

_ She didn’t _ ** _want_ ** _ to fight them. _

She looked to the metal in her left arm- _ a nail _ -near the shoulder, and winced as she yanked it free. The cold copper turned warm with her blood, glittering a metallic crimson in the light of the _ Mother’s _ glow.

“I-” she huffed, lungs burning, “I didn’t _ want _ to hurt you…” her eyes narrow, an unsteady glare sent to the writhing man on the ground, vision briefly growing fuzzy. She knew he- _ or any other Human _ -couldn’t understand her; just as she couldn't understand them.

_ She didn’t _ ** _care_**_. _

“You’re lucky I di’n…” She shook the dizziness from her head, “Lucky I didn’t ** _kill_ ** you.” she growled, thinking maybe she should have.

_ “Probably wouldn’t have so many broken ribs if I snapped the second one’s neck.” _

She usually hated thinking like that. Hated feeling her anger boiling over. _ Hated feeling a slave to her instincts. _

The bruises, cuts, and broken ribs removed any guilt she may have held.

Kyra- _ as far as she knew _ -never even met the men. She only spent two weeks near this village, what could she have done to anger these men so much they’d try to ** _murder_ ** her?

It just made no sense.

She smiled tiredly as her mind suddenly felt light, and dizzy. In her weakened state she thought of the past, _ “This is like that time with Clan Kesh’Ta.” _

Flashes of her, Mata, and her middle-sister Lito making trouble in one of their sister-tribes. Running through the groves of their oasis. Harassing the girls of their strange sister-Clan. Playing with their paints and inks.

Kesh’Ta wore intricate patterns of ink and paint on their skin, often dying their fur in special colors that meant… _ Something _. Nobody outside their Clan knew the specifics.

_ Apparently _ the paints were sacred.

If she wasn’t so exhausted, Kyra might’ve laughed as she remembered her and her sisters getting chased by a group of Kesh girls, laughing as they were caught, and celebrating when they won the resulting brawl.

She was knocked from her exhausted reverie by a rock to the tit.

She howled in pain, jumping up with knees bent, back arched, and claws extended ready to beat the person responsible.

_ What kind of asshole aims for the _ breasts!?

Her tail drooped and her ears folded against her head.

At least a dozen- _ if not more _ -people were there, angry, shouting words unknown to the hyena-woman.

Many held stones.

Many more held sticks, farming tools, and axes.

“Fuck this!” she spat.

Without hesitation she grabbed the branch one of the men tried to beat her with and spun around, using the momentum to send a devastating hit to the closest armed villager: A tall, muscled man carrying a copper-headed axe.

She smashed him in the side of the head, blood flying in a brilliant sanguine spray as his eye was popped out from the force.

The crowd screamed as he crumpled to the ground, dead and bloody. Some fled from the site, but many just got angrier.

Kyra threw the branch at the crowd, crouched down to grab the man’s axe- _ if she wasn’t in danger she would’ve admired the craftsmanship _-before she turned tail and ran.

She didn’t get far before a dull pain blossomed in the back of her head.

Then in her shoulder.

Then her back.

It took a second to understand that she was being pelted with rocks.

_ “They throw like children.” _ she mused distantly, dizziness and ringing in her ears muffling their screams and shouts of anger.

Everything was muffled either by the ringing, or the sound of her heart pumping. She vaguely felt like something was wrong, _ “But what wasn’t?” _

She honestly felt ashamed that she was so badly beaten by eight _ drunks _ . Drunks! She should’ve been able to beat them all without breaking a sweat, ** _how_ ** was she so fucked up!?

_ Is that a wall? _

Lost in her own thoughts Kyra didn’t notice she was running straight for a hard, _ painful _ mud-covered stone wall.

She threw out the arm not holding her new axe to soften the blow; but her head still banged against the hard surface, blood pouring down a cut on her forehead and nearly into her eyes.

_ “Questions for later,” _ she reasoned, shaking her head of the blood, _ “Time to run.” _

She ran between huts, through the main road, and in at least a dozen circles before slipping out of the village, mind spinning.

One second she was surrounded by huts.

She blinked.

Then she was back in the desert, trees and bushes sparsely scattered in the softly moonlit desert; the gentle blues and silvers of the _ Mother’s _ light turned the hard, unforgiving terrain into brilliant cerulean plains.

In her dazed, concussed state Kyra was almost tempted to jump into some piles of sand, thinking it was water and forgetting she was walking on it.

She blinked again, and when her eyes opened she was surrounded by rough, hastily-dug earthen walls.

She’d made it to her cave!

Her elation gave way to fitful coughing that left her on the ground, blood coming up in thick, viscous, mucus-mixed globs. Sharp, aching pains radiated from her lungs as air was viciously forced from her body, scratching and burning her throat raw.

_ “Fuck…” _ she groaned, throat raw and tight, making it hard to breathe as she gasped and wheezed. Lungs burning with pain, damage, and lack of air.

She leaned herself against one of the walls- _ weak _ -as spots floated all around, like dozens of flies that faded in-and-out of existence.

Weakly her eyes scanned her crudely-dug home, admiring it’s jagged claw-torn gouges; it’s root-riddled ceiling; it’s damp, swampish earthen floor-

“By the _ Mother _ this is terrible…” she wheezed, “If I were a man, my mate would’ve _ killed _ me for such shitty work.”

A whine forced itself from her lips at the pain in her chest as her ears drooped, “This ** _hurts_**_,” _ she whimpered pitifully. If her mind wasn’t so dizzy and fuzzy, she would have hated how weak and _ pathetic _ she sounded, _ “Why does it hurt so much..?” _

She can’t think straight.

_ “Am I gonna die?” _

Her hands tremble.

_ “Why?” _

Her eyes burned with fresh tears.

_ “Why do I have to die in such an awful cave?” _

She almost laughed, but the pain turned it into a sharp wince. She smiled weakly, “Almost-” she coughed, “Almost wish I were a man.” Fuzzy eyes scanned her makeshift home, a sense of amusement and sadness filled her chest.

_ Maybe then she could have died in a nice, homely den. _

She didn’t want to die.

She didn’t want to be attacked by random Humans.

She didn’t want to be starved for food, only managing to find scraps or bugs.

She didn’t want to wander around the _ Mother-forsaken _ desert for four more months.

_ She didn’t want to be exiled from the Clan. _

Kyra’s eyes _ burned _ as she struggled not to sob, and cry, and break down like a newborn pup: wailing and screeching over things beyond her control. She couldn't change the past, and no matter how much she wished: she was _never_ going home.

_ “Ha!” _ a bitter, harsh voice cut through the sounds of her struggle.

Eyes wide, ears perked in alertness, Kyra turned to see three men at the mouth of her cave, crouched down to peer into the dirt hole. The man in front- _ as tall as her with black hair and leaf-green eyes _ -said something to the other two, making them crack up in a fit of laughter.

_ “Fuck!” _ she was caught! How!? How could they find her?

_ If she were of a more sound mind, Kyra would have remembered she was bleeding, limping, and exhausted. Her tracks would have been obvious to _ ** _anyone_ ** _ looking for them, even an untrained pup. _

The sound of metal being dragged against wood turned her heart to ice. Glancing down to the man’s belt, the glint of bronze shone brightly in the silver light of the night.

_ A sword, _ she realized.

The weapon was simple in shape: One-handed; a curved, triangular blade that was wider at the base, and came to a narrow point; a ridge down the center separating the two edges while keeping it strong; and two small trenches around the ridge to lighten the blade. If her eyes hadn't grown so fuzzy, she would have notices the details on the guard and pommel of the deceptively-ornate blade.

She’d seen several blades like it in the Clan. Trophies from raids passed down from mother-to-daughter.

If she wasn’t bloody, exhausted, and in tremendous pain; Kyra would’ve been in complete awe at the sight of such a rare, _ beautiful _ treasure.

As it was, she felt nothing but anxiety.

The man pointed to her, making some crude remark she couldn’t understand. Based off the depraved lust in his eyes, she assumed he was talking of her bare breasts.

_ Why were Humans so obsessed with them? _

_ She briefly remembered the nasty looks Human women would send, and the flustered lust of their men. _

He darkly muttered to himself as he crawled forward, eyes firmly locked onto her firm mounds.

His repugnant, lustful gaze filled her with such disgust her stomach threatened to spew it’s contents all over herself. It was a struggle just to push down such a reaction.

She narrowed her eyes in thinly veiled hatred as he crawled forward.

A quick glance revealed he was so focused on her chest, his sword-hand was too far back to be any use.

Her right hand stretched out- _ slowly, as to not alert the man _-searching for her last gift.

He crept forward, hand outstretched to grope her shapely bust.

Kyra’s hand tightened around the wooden shaft.

He chuckled menacingly- _ what he _ ** _thought_ ** _ was menacing _ -as he took his lecherous eyes off her mounds for the first time since he entered. Crude, probably threatening words spilled from his disgusting mouth-

_ A flash of silver shone in the dim light of the cave as Kyra thrust forth with her weapon in hand. _

-And his grassy eyes, filled with cruelty and malicious lust, widened in shock and fear. Blood flowed from his gaping mouth like a waterfall, staining the mud of the cave in a brilliant sanguine hue. From his mouth came the smooth, painted shaft of her spear: the last kindness given by her Clan, and the last sight of this _despicable **wretch**._

_ And Kyra _ smiled _ as she watched the light fade from this disgusting, _ ** _weak_ ** _ animal’s eyes. _

Kyra could faintly hear the sounds of panicked screaming coming from the corpse’s companions as the ringing returned. The hand around her spear shook violently- _ near unnaturally _ -as her eyes began to darken.

She knew she was dying.

She knew she would never awaken.

_ But seeing the light fade from his eyes was too sweet to spoil. _

So as she lay there, dying, Kyra smiled.

_ And then there was nothing. _

**Author's Note:**

> Was trying my hardest to have this posted on my Birthday (Halloween), but since I've never posted before, I messed up. I don't know if this will be a one-shot or a series, but I thank you for reading regardless!


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